


Nice Light, Sunrise

by DevorakDevotee



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Implied Sexual Content, Other, POV Second Person, anyways. i used the word kiss a lot, i mean... it's portia. you can't expect me NOT to add a little spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevorakDevotee/pseuds/DevorakDevotee
Summary: You surprise Portia with breakfast out of bed.
Relationships: Apprentice/Portia (The Arcana), Apprentice/Portia Devorak, Portia Devorak/Reader, Reader/Portia (The Arcana)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Nice Light, Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> So… I'm not much of a writer these days, but I had this little idea stuck in my head and figured I could give writing fanfic a shot again. This is my first time working with an Arcana character, I hope it isn't too out-of-character for her!

On a typical morning, you and your girlfriend would have scrounged a quick breakfast from the cupboards, and the two of you would have eaten it entwined beneath sleep-rumpled sheets. Today, though, Portia's taking a break from her duties at the palace, which calls for something special. You had to rouse yourself before sunrise to ensure it would be a surprise for her, early bird as she is.

While it wasn't the easiest task to accomplish so soon in the day, you're not regretting it a bit as you finish setting up in the garden. The sun is illuminating the treetops in the east, and you know Portia will be awake soon, even without the urgency of her job to encourage her. On the few other days she's managed to take a break from work, she hasn't been able to sleep in. Today certainly won't be any different.

Returning to the cottage, you make your way back to bed as silently as possible. She's just beginning to wake as you sit on the edge of the mattress, and you lower yourself to press a kiss to her forehead. As you watch, her eyelids flutter open so her gaze can meet yours. The sunlight filtering through the curtains doesn't begin to compete with the brilliance of the smile that slowly spreads on her face... it's enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

"Good morning," you manage to whisper as you pull away.

"Morning, honey!" She follows you in sitting up, pushing stray hairs behind her ears. "What's got you up so early?"

Instead of answering her question, you opt to stand up. You pull the bedclothes off her with a flourish and what you hope is a mysterious smile. Without missing a beat, she arches her back in an invitation thinly veiled as a stretch, leaning into the pillows to afford you the full, enticing view. The sheer fabric of her nightgown doesn't leave much to the imagination.

"Like what you see?" She grins, and you laugh despite the rush of heat to your cheeks.

"Ugh, of course. You look good enough to eat…." You pause to slide one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees. "But let's take breakfast outside today, how about it?"

The surprise that crosses her face smoothly fades to contentment; with an exaggerated smack, she plants a kiss on your cheek as you parade through the cottage. She grabs at a shawl draped over a chair before she reaches out to push the door open for you, and you carry her out to the garden.

You whirl in a quick circle (and you definitely do not get butterflies at the way her hair fans out around you and the way a laugh bubbles from her lips), setting her down on the blanket with much more care than might have been necessary. You're well aware that Portia is the furthest from fragile a person could be, but that doesn't change the fact that she sometimes deserves to be treated like the finest china or the rarest herb—handled with all the love and delicacy you can manage.

Settling into place beside her, you straighten the shawl around her shoulders and watch as she takes in the little array of pastries and fruits you've laid out. Her hands come up to the sides of her face, and she peers at you with shining eyes. For just an instant, you think she's tearing up; then she blinks, and the gleam in her eye is unmistakably adoration.

"Oh, did you really do all this just for me?"

"Hmm," you pretend to think about it for a moment, scanning the goodies in front of you. "Sure, I did it for you"—you snatch a pastry and take a bite—"and maybe for myself, a little bit."

She gasps in mock indignation, making to wrest the remainder of the pastry from you. "What? No way am I sharing this, my favorite magician did it for ME!"

As her laughter trails off, you hold up the bite for her to finish. Her lips brush your fingertips when she accepts it, and you taste the lingering sweetness on them when you give her a lazy kiss. Despite thousands of previous kisses, peppered across her mouth, her cheeks, every bit of her, you're still not certain whether that sweetness is from the pastry… or if it's just her.

Determined to entertain, you admit to stealing away to the palace before dawn, perhaps exaggerating the bravery you displayed in making the trek through the dark woods. She leans back on her elbows, attentive as you spin your yarn, letting you feed her the berries you risked life and limb to collect from the kitchens. Finally, your story concludes with a kiss awakening a fair maiden, as perhaps too many tales do.

Portia sits up as she notices that another fair maiden is picking her way across the grass towards the two of you.

"Good morning, baby," she coos. Pepi responds with a soft peep that could very well be her own version of the same greeting. She stops to sniff at the assortment of food, but, finding nothing to suit her feline palate, chooses to leap into Portia's lap.

It's difficult to keep your jaw from going slack as you revel in the sight. Admittedly, it’s not as if you _needed_ a reminder that your girlfriend truly is something out of a fairy tale, but you can't complain as you watch her steady hands caress the baby she's holding. She doesn't miss the way your gaze roams the scene, and her mouth quirks into a mischievous smile.

"What? You jealous of her?" she teases, nodding towards the cat.

"Of course not," you retort, far too quickly.

"Aw, you poor thing. Sorry, Pepi."

At a gentle nudge from her, Pepi slinks off, seemingly indignant at losing her spot in the most comfortable lap in Vesuvia.

The redhead throws her arms wide, grandly announcing, "Looks like I'm alllll yours now…."

"Maybe so, but at what cost?" Feigning wistfulness, you reach a hand out after Pepi as she leaves.

Portia's voice dips low as she grabs your outstretched hand. She simply purrs, "A price I'm willing to pay," and she pulls you into her lap. If you had something to quip in response, it's lost to you as plush lips begin to skirt down your neck.

You could stay with her like this until the sun dips below the horizon again, fixated on warm skin and soft hair and clothes already begging to be shed, and you're about to tell her so, when a small clatter draws the attention of both of you. Looking around, you determine the cause easily: your movements wrinkled the blanket enough to bring the breakfast dishes to clink against each other.

Assessing the remaining pastries, you slide out of Portia's embrace with no small regret. Still, you don't want to leave a mess out here, or risk breaking one of the fine dishes. As you reach out to collect the leftovers on a single plate, she gathers the plates into a stack.

"Oh, we should get these dishes back to the kitchens, huh?" she asks, keeping a note of indifference in her tone that gives you pause. When you turn to face her, her eyes flicker from the plates in her hands towards the palace, and you notice an unmistakable blush tinting her cheeks.

"Portia!"

"What!?"

"You just want an excuse to check on things at the palace." Maybe that comes out a bit more accusatory than you meant it to.

"So what if I do?" She shrugs, setting the plates aside in favor of twisting her hands in her lap. You sigh, and reach out to untangle her fingers. Clasping her hands between your own, you address her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Pasha… the palace isn't going to burn down without you." You pause, thinking of some remarkably foolish mistakes the staff have made in the past, then add a hesitant "Probably."

She maintains an unimpressed expression, before shaking her head and giggling softly.

"Thank you. I'm glad you're here to remind me of that," she admits.

It's your turn to blush at the sentiment.

"I'm glad you were the one to request the day off this time." Previous days she's taken off have been at the Countess's suggestion; today was entirely her own doing, and she looks pleased at the acknowledgement.

"I know, right! That's a big deal, I guess I should make the most of it."

You release one of her hands in favor of ghosting your fingers up her arm. "Of course. And how can I"—letting your grip settle at her shoulder, you lean in close to breathe the words against her soft cheek—"help you make the most of it?"

She takes a second to think, then murmurs, "Let's just pick up where we left off a minute ago."

The answer is punctuated by her lips melting against your own. Curls fall to frame her face as she pushes you onto your back, settling herself on top of you.

When she pulls away for breath, you spare a moment's consideration for the dirtied dishes, wondering when you actually need to drop them off at the palace. That thought is quickly cut off by Portia's hand trailing down your chest. She pauses as she pushes up the hem of your top, eyebrows raised in a wordless plea that you answer with a nod.

As her hands splay eagerly across the skin at your waist, you wrap your arms around her shoulders to pull her down into an equally eager kiss. A gentle bite at her lip elicits a moan from her, which, paired with the sudden dig of her fingertips into your hips, sends a shudder through your body. Her hands start to drift closer to your core, both the remnants of breakfast and her responsibilities at the palace quite forgotten.

Suffice it to say, the kitchens won't be seeing those plates again for… a while.


End file.
